


A Hard Night to be Alone with Daisy

by enjcltaire



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Daisy is an idiot, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Hazel is in love, Jolly Foul Play, Love Confessions, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjcltaire/pseuds/enjcltaire
Summary: In the midst of the panic of Binny's disappearance, Daisy takes Hazel outside House to resolve their argument. Hazel makes a confession.A fix-it of their conversation on the window sash in Jolly Foul Play.





	A Hard Night to be Alone with Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic to be posted on here (feeling nervous af). Please be nice but constructive criticism is appreciated! Sorry in advance if there are any inaccuracies. I love these two. <3

Daisy led me through the shouting, running, exclaiming House, everything upside down and inside out (Matron had decided to call the police again, and so Binny was now officially missing), to the long wide window on the second floor that sits just above a little ledge. The older girls sometimes go and sit on it to smoke without Matron catching them, but now it was empty. Daisy pushed open the sash and slipped out onto it, and I followed her.

“What do you want?” I asked, once we were sat, being stung by the wind and by little speckles of rain. It was a hard night to be outside, and an even harder night to be alone with Daisy. I could not look at her, because I was angry and upset and I deserved an apology, but all the same, I was sick and tired of fighting. Daisy and I had stuck by each other for most of the time I'd been at Deepdean, and now we weren't friends anymore. I couldn't see Daisy backing down, but I wasn't going to either. You see, I have learnt some things from England.

“I needed to speak with you, Hazel,” said Daisy. “Alone.”

“Now?” I said. “Not before? It's your fault – it's our fault that Binny's gone. If we hadn't been so busy arguing, this would never have happened. What if something's happened to her?”

“If something's happened to her, it's too late,” said Daisy. “But if it hasn't yet, then it's up to us to find her before it does.” She looked at me then, her big blue eyes full of tears. “I know you'd rather detect with someone else, but can't you pretend, Watson? Just for a while?” I didn't need to ask what she meant, and suddenly I felt terribly guilty. “You're writing to him, and asking him for help and...not me!” Tears spilled down her cheeks and she looked away. Daisy never could bear to look weak.

I looked down at the gravel below us. I remembered in third form when we had crept out of House at night and down to the gym, when we had solved The Case of the Murder of Miss Bell together. My cheeks burned. “He's my friend,” I said. It was a pathetic excuse, I knew, but all the anger had suddenly gone out of me and I felt like a burst balloon.

“You're my friend,” whispered Daisy, and our eyes met, and in that second I realised that she had given up on hiding her feelings from me. Just as she can always tell when I'm lying, I can always tell when she's not as happy as she tries to look. “My best friend – or at least, you were! It isn't fair! A boy.” She shook her head. “And the worst part is, I can't even be angry with you. I tried and tried and it didn't work. Hazel...I can't lose you. I don't have anyone else.”

As she said that, I saw the last few months from Daisy's point of view. Daisy was Daisy still, with her peculiar Daisy-ishness the same as ever, and she had not known what to do while I had been writing letters and thinking about someone other than her. She knows me so well, better than myself, almost, and she knows that I spend far too much time thinking about her. I've never quite been able to work out if she does the same. But to her, I had gone away and left her lost.

Without thinking about it too much, I reached out and took her hand. She looked up at me in surprise. “Listen to me,” I said, and my eyes stung. “You're Daisy, you're my best friend in the world. You're...you're more than my best friend. I love you, Daisy.”

There was a horrendous pause and my cheeks burned. The wind licked around us and ruffled my hair. My heart was beating ten times faster than normal.

“Hazel,” said Daisy, after a while. “Have you not been explaining things properly to me? Do you not love Alexander now? Alexander's my replacement.” She stuttered. “You love me?”

It was such an absolutely Daisy-ish thing to say. For all her intelligence, she does jump to conclusions quite a lot. “Of course!” I said, with a laugh. “You idiot. Alexander is a boy, but he's my friend. He isn't you. Neither are Kitty or Beanie or Lavinia. And you ought to know that. You really are blind, Daisy. I used to read all my storybooks in Hong Kong, and dreamed of meeting a girl like you, and that day you ran into me in hockey I realised...maybe I like English girls more than is proper. But it wasn't any English girls. It was you. I love you, Daisy. Do you understand yet?”

“Of course,” said Daisy matter-of-factly. “I see now. Although what took me so long I have no idea. That was rather slow of me, I must admit. I – I overreacted, I suppose. I ought never have said what I did. It wasn't good form. But what matters now is Binny.”

I nodded, my cheeks dark red. This is the problem with Daisy. She can be extremely tactless at times, and was clearly not going to address my affection, let alone return it. I looked down as she talked about the case, words going into my head and straight back out, as my logic was overtaken by the feelings I'd suppressed since second form.

Daisy abruptly stopped and looked at me. I looked up briefly and saw the realisation dawn on her face. She had, once again, skimmed over the most important thing in our conversation.

“I've done it again, haven't I?” she muttered, turning pink. I nodded with a sad laugh, a tear dripping down my face. Daisy immediately looked distressed.

“Hazel, I'm a prize idiot. I love you.” She dropped my hand and lifted my face, wiping away my tears. “Come on. I can't do this without you, Watson.”

I blinked hard, taken aback. “Oh,” I said. “Then...I'm sorry, Daisy.”

She shook her head. “Detective Society forever?” asked Daisy.

In lieu of an answer, I leaned forward and our lips met, with the rain on our cheeks and the cold dark of the evening all around us, and I was happier than I had been all term.


End file.
